


Snow White and the Seven Pixies

by DevillesDemon



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Maleficent (Disney Movies)
Genre: A+ Parenting, F/M, Snow White is a Dark Fey, Twist on the tale of Snow White, Ulstead is restless, Yes there will be a poison apple, aurora is trying her best to be a good queen, badass princesses, but she looks human, cue speciesism from Borra, her wings and horns were cut by the evil queen, he’s trying to be nice to the humans, maleficent is a good mom, other kingdoms don’t like the moors either, phillip is sweet, seven pixies instead of seven dwarfs, the humans still don’t like the moors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25181659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevillesDemon/pseuds/DevillesDemon
Summary: Snow White was only a child when her wings were cut. She hadn't even fledged before her stepmother blamed the King's poisoning on Snow's blossoming powers; under her stepmother's reign, the kingdom of Tabor rallied against the strangeness of the Moorfolk.Her stepmother, Queen Ravenna, exiled Snow and seven pixies to a cottage in the woods. Many years pass, during which Ravenna strikes up trade deals with Queen Ingrid of Ulstead. Troops are sent to help Ingrid massacre the Moorfolk and slaughter Maleficent once and for all.The troops do not come back. Instead, a revised treaty advising of peace between Ulstead and the Moors arrives. Ravenna agrees to the terms of the new treaty, and peace remains... For now.Meanwhile, the fable of Snow White reaches Queen Aurora. Convinced of the truth of the story, Aurora sends her best task force to investigate - led, albeit unwillingly, by Borra himself.***A twist on the fable of Snow White set in Disney's Maleficent universe. Canon-typical violence. Borra x OC - Snow White, Aurora x Philip (side plot).
Relationships: Aurora & Maleficent (Disney), Aurora/Phillip (Disney), Borra (Disney)/Original Character(s), Borra (Disney)/Original Female Character(s), Diaval & Maleficent (Disney)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	1. Aurora Listens

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, welcome, I loved Mistress of Evil and if you're here I assume you did, too! I got thinking about the other Disney/Grimm princesses and how they might fit into the Maleficent universe and then this fic happened!

Queen Aurora was struggling. 

It was no surprise, really. Her boundless kindness as Queen was no match for humans' speciesism, and it showed in the slurs on the streets and the whispers in the alleys. 

Still, most humans were doing well with coming to terms with the Moorfolk's new citizenship of Ulstead. Many reported they found their employment very helpful - for example, construction was greatly increased with the Treefolk's help, and the sprites made for wonderful and speedy cleaners. 

No, the problems came when some people lost their jobs in favour of the more efficient Moorfolk and their magic. Never mind that most Moorfolk stayed on the Moors, and that they were few and far between on the mainland; the harkers, despite King Philip's best efforts to put his foot down, blamed unemployment rates on swarms of Moorfolk swarming into Ulstead. 

How was Aurora meant to deal with that while she raised a baby? She already had Knotgrass and Thistlewit on rotation with a human nanny, with Violet's potted blue flowers permanently standing guard in the window of the creche. Aurora hardly saw little Prince Samson as it was with all her usual royal duties, and that was without dealing with close-minded humans. 

She did at least have most of the Dark Fey on her side. Many of them took up her offer to become palace guards, on light hours and decent pay. Mainly their job was to look imposing in an attempt to dissuade riots and general public anti-Moorish behaviour, as their wings cast shadows in the streets and served as reminders of the formidable power that the Dark Fey had displayed in the war. Aurora hated to have to rule that way, with intimidation and fear, but the safety of her people came first, and the comfort of humans came second. Philip, to her relief, gave his full support on the decision. 

Their rule was harmonious, but each of them tended to drift towards supporting their own original kingdom. The arrangement worked well since the two of them could negotiate ideas between the two kingdoms, though Philip often bemoaned that work tended to leech into their private conversations and time. 

One small blessing was that the neighbouring kingdoms had accepted the new treaties and trade deals, albeit some with caution. Aurora considered this as a big step in the right direction for integrating the Moorfolk into human society. 

It had been three years since the war, and Prince Samson was nearing the age of two. He adored his aunts as much as they adored him, and Knotgrass and Thistlewit were constantly fussing over the little boy. He especially seemed to love their stories, and Aurora periodically sat in on storytime. They often repeated the stories that they had told her as a child, and the sense of nostalgia was like a comforting blanket amidst her stress and long working days. 

It was on one evening of a long and stressful day that Philip gently rested his hands on Aurora's shoulders as she poured over paperwork. 

"You'll damage your eyes if you keep on like this," he murmured, working his thumbs into the knots in her shoulders. "You've been at it all day. Why don't you come to bed?"

She flicked a loose curl from her face. "I've got to finish this," she asserted. "I've got complaints coming left and right from humans and Moorfolk alike, and I-"

Philip plucked the quill from her fingertips and placed it in her ornate silver inkwell. "You," He said, "need to sleep. You're only human," he reminded, not unkindly. 

Aurora paused, looking at the papers, then sighed. Her hand was aching from writing responses, her eyes were a little dry with exhaustion, not to mention her posture had been making her muscles ache. "Gosh, you're right." 

She allowed him to lead her out of her office after he snuffed out the light, and she practically fell upon the bed. 

"I didn't realise I was so tired," she mumbled into the pillows. 

Philip chuckled and tucked her in. "Goodnight, sleeping beauty."

She had enough energy left to snuggle into him and look at him through half-lidded eyes. "'Night, Philip."

She estimated she only had a few hours of sleep before a cry woke her with a start. Philip was dead to the world beside her, drooling as usual, and she huffed a quiet laugh before padding to Samson's room to source the commotion. 

The fairies were already hurriedly comforting the boy, and greeted a sleepy Aurora as she approached. 

"Aurora! Oh I'm so sorry we woke you!" Thistlewit apologised, darting over to fuss over the Queen while Knotgrass tended to the Prince. 

Aurora waved a dismissive hand. "It's okay, I was already awake," she lied. 

"Would you like some hot cocoa? We've got some left from earlier, I can reheat it if you'd like? I know it's your favourite!" Thistlewit said hopefully. 

Aurora nodded graciously. "That would be wonderful, thank you Thistlewit."

"Oh, did you have a nightmare again?" Knotgrass was cooing over the crib. "Did you? Well now, would you like a story to send you back to sleep, hm? Yes?"

Samson said "Story, Kno-Kno!" and Flora took this as a 'yes please, aunty Knotgrass'. Thistlewit pressed Aurora into the rocking chair with a mug of steaming cocoa and then went to perch on the edge of the crib. 

"Well, once upon a time there was a beautiful girl called Snow White. She lived in the palace, for she was a princess," Knotgrass explained. "One day, her mother was killed. The King was so upset, but he didn't want little Snow White to not have a mother! So he quickly remarried a woman called Ravenna. Snow's stepmother was very kind to her, until the day when she realised Snow White was more beautiful than her. Queen Ravenna sent -"

_Queen Ravenna? Now where have I heard that name before?_

"And she banished Snow to a the woods with ten dwarves! And then-"

As Aurora listened, she dropped into a doze, but that one nagging thought remained at the edge of her consciousness. 

_Queen Ravenna? Now where have I heard that name before?_


	2. Snow Speaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Snow White and the seven pixies!

Snow White felt that she had gotten away lightly for her crimes. No matter what she did, she couldn't remove the heavy guilt from her shoulders for her father's comatose state. No matter what her ten-year-old self had tried, she hadn't been able to reverse whatever curse she had inadvertently placed upon him, and even now, fifteen years later, her stepmother wouldn't let her close enough to attempt to reverse it. Not that she could, now - with her wings removed, her magic had gone with it. She was, for all intents and purposes, completely human, save for the wing-stubs on her back and the truncated remnants of her horns beneath her dark hair.

When she had mentioned wanting to go back to her kingdom, Tabor, to try to reverse the curse, Doc had only shrugged and told her to keep still while he filed down her horn stubs. If Grumpy was ever nearby, he would tell her to stop overthinking and help him sort through the gems he had collected from the mines that day. Dopey would stare, wide-eyed, and shake his head silently. She didn't question it.

The pixies all showered her with affection she felt she didn't deserve. They often sympathised with her; they had been a gang of thieves once, and had been spared if only they looked after her and worked the old mines, but their wings had been taken in retribution. She, however, was effectively a murderer, and surely she too deserved hard work in the mines, not cleaning and cooking for the pixies? How was it fair that she received a lesser sentence than the pixies for an unforgivable crime? Mining in the dirt and dark and damp and dangerous conditions should have been a minimum sentence for her, surely.

"Your hands are too soft," Bashful would point out, avoiding looking her in the eye, when she asked to join the pixies in the mines.

"You'll cut them something terrible in them mines," Happy would agree.

"Your lungs won't cope with the dust," Sneezy would add, pinching his nose to ward off a sneeze.

Then Grumpy would chime in and say, "You're much safer doing the cooking and cleaning. We don't know how to do that!"

And that would be the end of it. Still, she begrudged herself simple pleasures out of spite - she didn't deserve them. However, the pixies, she had noticed, always tried to give her more on her plate. When she questioned it, Doc would look over the top of his half-moon glasses at her.

"You're a fair sight bigger than us, young Snow. Therefore, you need more food. Now eat up before it gets cold."

In short, the pixies were too good to her. Perhaps it was because they practically raised her, or perhaps her charming beauty had swayed them; for no matter how had she tried, she couldn't mask her looks. When she dirtied her porcelain skin to reduce the white, garish glare, the pixies would scowl and demand she wash it off. When she matted her dark hair in order to convince them to cut it yet shorter, Grumpy sat behind her for hours in front of the fire and diligently detangled it, despite her protests. Her feet were the only thing they couldn't police - going barefoot for years had hardened her soles into thick leather, ideal for running or climbing, which were the only slight pleasures she allowed herself. When she ran, she imagined the wind in her hair was generated by her lost wings, and when she climbed she would glance down at the trees and imagine soaring over the forest.

She could only imagine the feeling of flight. She was only just due her first fledge when her wings had been cleaved from her back. She supposed it was a good thing - never having had a taste of that freedom - so she couldn't pine for it. Still, she couldn't help but imagine it.

"Snow! Help me gather some firewood? It's going to be a cold one tonight," Happy called to her as she came back with armfuls of wild herbs.

She nodded. "I'll be there in a moment, just let me take these herbs inside."

A cold night was a good night, she mused. She never had been good with warmth. Her body couldn't seem to handle the summer temperatures very well, and yet she could stand comfortably barefoot in the fresh snowfall for hours.

"Do you think there's others like me out there?" Snow asked Happy he hefted a load of logs into her outstretched arms.

"Like you?" he asked, giving her a quizical glance.

"People with wings." She lifted her chin. "And horns."

"Nah."

Snow hurried to catch him as he strode through the undergrowth in search of a good dead branch for kindling. "Why not?" She demanded, her long legs matching his quick pace with ease.

"Well, humans don't like us. They don't like magic," he corrected. "Your mother was killed because they didn't like what she was."

Snow frowned. "I didn't know that."

"What, that she was dead?"

"No, that they killed her for what she was," Snow said. "Do they know who did it?"

He straightened up with a bundle of kindling under one arm and a small stack of logs balanced in the other. "No one knows. She got an iron ball straight to the heart and the poor bird didn't stand a chance."

Snow looked askance at him. "Did you know her?"

He didn't answer for a moment, and Snow was convinced he was ignoring the question before he finally spoke.

"Not really," He said. "I saw her some around the kingdom. You look a lot like her." He turned his head to look at her. "But you've got your father's hair colour."

Snow contemplated this while they walked. "Is there more like you though? Pixies?"

"And others," Happy admitted. "Fairies. Sprites. Mushroomfolk, to name a few. We're not as large of a target as you big-winged folks. We can stick to the forests and hide in the bushes."

"Oh." Snow lowered her head. "Isn't there anywhere you can be safe from humans?"

"On the Moors, sure." He shrugged and broke a piece off of a hanging branch to test its dryness. When it snapped easily he set about sawing it into pieces.

"Aren't they a wilderness?"

"Sure they are. But Maleficent guards them, and even though she's cruel and angry she keeps the Moorfolk safe from human invaders with her magic." He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. "They say she made a wall of thorns and fog too thick to walk through to protect the Moors."

"Wow. Is she a witch?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but one look at Snow's eager face stopped him. "Sure, she's a witch," he lied. "A very evil one too. If she ever saw you, she'd think you were human and cut you clean in half!"

"Oh. She doesn't like humans?"

"Hates them. With passion!" He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "I heard once she had her heart broken by a human man, and she's been hunting him and killing any human who wanders into the Moors ever since."

Snow warded off a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. "She sounds evil."

"That she is. So really, it's not a question of magic folk being safe from humans, but the other way around." He winked, making her laugh as they traipsed on into the forest.


	3. Pinto Investigates

Over the next few days Aurora was practically rushed off of her feet. Tuesday morning was dedicated to opening the new school and visiting the hospital, while the afternoon was filled with a long council meeting about how to support the struggling river fishing industry. Wednesday and Thursday were full of writing letters and empty promises to her people (and a few strong words in response to the speciesist letters). The entirety of Friday was blocked out solely for correspondence to the kings and queens of allied kingdoms. She and Philip carefully chose every word written, so the whole process often took several drafts per kingdom.

Finally, in the early evening, Philip signed his name, and she signed hers next to his, on the last letter. Philip organised the wax seal and then Aurora wrote the addressee on the envelope: Queen Ravenna of Tabor.

_Queen Ravenna. Where have I heard that name before?_

"Aurora?" Philip questioned, seeing his wife's stricken face. "Aurora, are you okay?"

She shook her head to clear it and offered him a weak smile. "I think I'm just tired. I'm done for today, anyway."

"Oh good," He said, pulling her in for a kiss. "I've missed the warm evenings with you."

"Philip!" She exclaimed, but her disdain was undermined by her fond laugh. "I'm just going to check on Samson. And then I'll be all yours, okay?"

He nodded with a grin. "Sounds good to me. I'll ask the kitchen to send up some food."

Aurora shut the door firmly behind her as she entered the crèche.

"That story," she said, almost breathlessly. "About Snow White. You never told it to me when I was little."

Knotgrass and Thistlewit stared in shock as Aurora practically glared at the two fairies.

"My dear Aurora! What has gotten into you?" Knotgrass demanded. "You come storming in here, you're lucky you didn't wake the baby!"

Aurora blinked. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. She peered into the crib to see Samson sleeping soundly and smiled when his little fist closed over the finger she tickled his palm with.

"Now what's this about a story?" Knotgrass asked.

Snow turned her head to look at them. "The Snow White story. Is it new?"

"We heard it in the market last week," Thistlewit explained.

Aurora frowned. "From who?"

"A man. He was trying to sell jewellery, said it had been worn by the lost princess herself."

"Ridiculous," Knotgrass added. "It was far too big for a child to have worn!"

"And he definitely said Queen Ravenna?" Asked Aurora.

"I think so... why?" Knotgrass squinted at her.

"It's just that Queen Ravenna actually exists," said Aurora.

"She does?" Thistlewit squeaked. "Oh! Snow White could be real!"

"Don't be silly, Thistlewit," Knotgrass berated. "That man made it up to sell his wares. He probably just used her name for the story, see? To make it sound more believable!"

"Quite the imagination he must have," Aurora mused, stroking Samson's little fingers absentmindedly while he gripped her own. "To make the story so elaborate and... Outlandish."

"Aurora, please, it's just a story-"

"All stories contain fragments of the truth though, don't they? Didn't you tell me that?" Aurora raised her gaze to look at the two fairies, who were fiddling with the hems of their dresses nervously. "Tomorrow, if you can, I want you to find that man and bring him to me."

"He would have left the kingdom when the market closed yesterday," Thistlewit said.

"Goodness." Aurora felt the urge to facepalm. "Okay. Well, I shall have to write Queen Ravenna. She's the only link I have now."

"Is that wise? She might find it confrontational, asking if she banished her husband's child out of jealousy like that," Knotgrass warned.

"I'll be subtle. Ask how Snow White is faring in the cold or something." Aurora sighed and stroked Samson's hair tenderly. "Humans seem to love making small talk about the weather."

***

Aurora promptly wrote a letter and entrusted it to one of her messengers, with express orders for the messenger to bring back Queen Ravenna's reply. Aurora also asked Pinto to accompany the messenger to ensure its safe delivery.

It took just a day to reach Tabor, for the neighbouring kingdom was close (which was one of the reasons Philip and Aurora had been so pleased that they had accepted the new treaty). Pinto hid safely alongside Aurora's letter in the saddlebag, and took advantage of the situation with a nice long nap.

At Tabor, Pinto slipped out of the saddlebag and covertly followed the butler who took Aurora's letter from the messenger. Slipping through the door at the last minute, Pinto found herself in the Queen's chambers.

"A letter for you, your Majesty."

"Leave it on the vanity, George," the Queen said without looking up from where she was powdering her cheeks.

The butler placed the letter then bowed out. Pinto positioned herself under the dressing table and waited while the Queen finished her powder and read the letter.

" _George_!" Ravenna suddenly screeched. Pinto covered her tiny ears with a shocked squeak, but luckily the sound was disguised by the Queen slamming her fist on the dressing table.

The door opened and Pinto saw the polished black shoes of the butler enter.

"Your Majesty?"

"Queen Aurora of Ulstead is onto my trail," Ravenna hissed. Her heels clicked as she paced the room. "She'll free her."

"Free who?"

" _Snow_!" She snapped, whirling to face him. "Aurora enquired after her wellbeing in this letter."

"But your Majesty, how can you be sure she'll free her? Surely if you reveal Snow White's crimes, then-"

"Are you _stupid_?" She demanded, giving a derisive laugh. "Queen Aurora is _soft."_ She began to pace again. "I expect she will decide Snow has served her sentence and ask me to free her. And once Snow gets a taste of freedom she'll be gallivanting about and next thing you know she'll be reclaiming the throne and ruining all my plans for the kingdom."

George bowed his head. "What would you have me do, your Majesty?"

She turned to face him abruptly. "Is your axe sharp?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Good. You know where Snow is kept?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Good. Go there and cut out her heart and bring it back to me."

George paused for a fraction of a second before bowing reverently. "Your Majesty, tomorrow is tax collection day-"

"Then deal with her the day after!"

He nodded with a sly smile. " _Yes_ , your Majesty."

Little Pinto just barely retained a squeak of horror after overhearing the conversation. She scampered up the stairs and out of the castle, settling back into the saddlebag, out of sight.

Queen Ravenna was quick to pen a response. Not an hour later, the messenger slid Ravenna's letter into the saddlebag, and they were off.

It took another long day to ride back to the palace. Pinto jumped out before the horse had even halted, determinedly darting through the halls to find Aurora and relay this terrible news.

In her office, Pinto chirped to let Aurora know she was there, but to her surprise Aurora let out a groan.

"Not now, Pinto, I'm trying to concentrate."

Pinto chirped angrily and bounced onto the table, almost knocking over Aurora's inkwell. The Queen yelped and was halfway onto admonishing the small faerie before the small fey's large, round eyes got the better of her and she sighed, reaching out to let Pinto climb onto her palm. 

Aurora brought Pinto close to her face. "What is it?"

Pinto explained the best she could and was gratified when Aurora made all the right noises of shock and horror.

"Gosh! So it must be true! And Queen Ravenna is going to kill her!" Aurora gasped. "We have to do something!"

Pinto chirped in agreement and mimed flapping wings.

"Godmother can't, she's so busy," Aurora sighed.

Pinto made the movement again and then mimed a soldier's salute.

"My army? Of course! Why didn't I think of that? I'm not thinking clearly. No sleep..." Aurora grabbed a piece of parchment and scrawled a message onto it, then rolled it up and gave it to Pinto. "Can you give that to the captain of the guard, please?"

The fey chirped, and, balancing the roll haphazardly above her small head, raced out of the door. Periodically someone had to jump over her as she streamed down the halls, and some ankles weren't so lucky, getting smacked by the parchment roll. She chattered apologies but didn't stop, intent upon her mission.

At the castle barracks, Pinto got directions from a Jungle Fey and after chirping a thanks she was off again, until finally she reached the door. She had to brace with all her tiny might to open the door wide enough to let her squeeze through, and she only just pulled the letter through after her before the door shut again.

"Who's there?"

Pinto chirped a greeting and waved the letter over her head.

He took the letter bemusedly. "Who's it from?"

Pinto gestured impatiently at the letter and he relented, tearing into it and scanning the short paragraph inside.

"Great," he said finally. "Another damsel in distress." He bent to pat Pinto on her head. "You can tell the Queen I'm on my way."


	4. Snow Surrenders

As soon as the tax collecting for the day was done and the figures drawn up and _every penny_ was accounted for, George told the stableboy to saddle up the sturdiest horse for a long, hard ride. He packed his old woodsman's axe, the one he'd used until he'd come into his job at the palace, and some food and water for the long ride ahead. The weather looked to be fair, but he took a coat in case the evening got cold.

Hours later, his every muscle hurt. He tried not to push the poor horse too hard, but he had a schedule to keep. The dewy, cold night was little balm, and he felt his eyelids droop. He almost missed the turn onto the unbeaten track that led to the cottage, overgrown and unsignposted as it was, but he found it and urged the uneasy mare through the ferns and between the trees.

It was another hour still of trudging through the undergrowth before he spotted a glint of light to his left and corrected his course, dismounting on the treeline. He estimated it was just before dawn, maybe five or six in the morning; there was a definite orangey hue to the glimpse of sky between the branches. A candle was burning in the lantern by the door - the source of the light that had guided him here.

He unlatched the saddlebag and swung it over his shoulder, feeling the familiar weight of his axe bump against his hip, and crept towards the door. His hand found the hilt of his axe beneath the flap of the bag as he raised his fist to knock the door.

" _You should leave, human_."

George startled at the voice in his ear, whipping around to face whoever was standing beside him. His bag slid off his shoulder and hit the floor with a thump; he pressed himself back against the door in fright at the sight of the being in front of him, whose wings were spread intimidatingly and whose mouth was crooked in a predatory smile.

"Well well well," Borra said lowly, looking George up and down. "The hunter becomes the hunted." He held out his hand. "Give me the bag."

George felt the handle of the axe in his hand, glanced down at it, then looked up at the Dark Fey who currently had his palm upwards ready to take the satchel. George didn't miss the glint of metal in the Fey's other hand, and he didn't fancy his chances against magical folk. He handed over his satchel without a fuss and Borra immediately threw it over his shoulder and into the undergrowth.

George suppressed a whimper at the casual show of strength. The satchel had been heavy with the axe, water, and food, and it must have gone a good fifteen feet away, and that had been a haphazard throw. He pressed himself back into the door harder, eager to get away from the Fey.

The door opened. With a startled howl, George fell back and landed upon several equally startled bodies, knocking them to the ground. As he struggled to get back to his feet, Borra leaned down and gripped his shirt, pulling the wide-eyed manservant to his feet and dragging him out of the doorway. When he let go, George stumbled and realised with grim annoyance that the Fey had placed himself between him and his target, the Fey's coppery wings now slightly spread to block his view.

"What's going on?" Grumpy from behind Borra. "It's five in the morning!"

"This _man_ is here to kill the human in your cottage," Borra said to the pixie, keeping his eyes on George the whole time.

"The human?" Sleepy asked, slightly bemused.

" _Snow_ ," Grumpy hissed back, giving him a pointed look.

Borra, ignoring this, pointed towards George's horse. "Get on it."

George did so, murmuring quick, soothing words to the skittish horse. The animal had tried to break free when it saw Borra's wings, but having been tied up it had had nowhere to run. Now, untethered, it bolted - with George clinging desperately to it - when Borra snapped his wings out and growled at it.

Borra smiled satisfiedly as he listened to the retreating thunder of hooves, then turned to face the pixies. He counted seven in all, all blocking the doorway... _And_ his path to the female peering out at him from the back.

He almost had to do a double-take. She really was lovely, for a human. If it wasn't for her dark hair and dark eyes, she could have been Tundra Fey with the almost deathly paleness of her skin. She was staring at him with such disbelief that he had a strong urge to start to preen.

There wasn't any time to ogle; the pixies were defiantly sizing him up. He'd been flying for ten hours straight, following George's horse all the way from Tabor, and he didn't fancy fighting a swarm of pint-sized faeries. After a quick headcount of seven, plus the woman, he gestured briefly behind his back for the two other Fey who had accompanied him to keep their positions in the trees.

"I'm not here to fight you," he said, seeing the unease on the pixies' faces. "I'm here to take the human to Ulstead."

"I'm afraid we can't let you do that," Doc said with a frown. He had to look up at Borra as the Fey took a half-step forwards, but the pixie stood his ground.

"By instruction of Her Highness Queen Aurora," Borra said with a sigh. He was getting quite sick of having to use a human's title to get what he wanted, rather than intimidation tactics, but Maleficent always narrowed her eyes at him over Aurora's shoulder if ever he tried to argue that intimidation was more effective. He certainly enjoyed threats more, but of course he wasn't stupid enough that he couldn't see the benefits of being civil. Right now, however, he was tired, and he just wanted to get things over with as quickly as possible. Intimidation would have been excellent for speed.

"And we are bound to keep Snow here by instruction of Her Highness Queen Ravenna," Doc said curtly, pushing up his glasses. "If you have any _problem_ with that, you can take it up with her."

"Go back inside, Snow," Bashful whispered at the back of the group.

Borra's enhanced fey hearing picked up the quiet instruction and he locked eyes with her. "You don't have to do what they say, you know," he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

She blinked at him, then her eyes darted away. To his displeasure, she bit her lip and backed further into the cottage.

"She's not coming with you, bird-brain," groused Grumpy, squeezing past Doc to stand with his arms crossed in the middle of the doorway.

Borra laughed, looking down on the pixie. "I just saved your lives," he said lowly. "Have some _respect_."

"How do you _know_ that human was here to kill Snow?" Happy asked.

"Queen Aurora has informants." Borra glanced up at the sky, glimpsing the dawn through the leaves. "We need to go." He squinted into the darkness of the cottage, picking out the woman's form among the shadows. "Are you coming willingly, or do I have to fight you all to the death?"

The pixies tensed, but Snow was quick to move forward, patting Sneezy and Sleepy's shoulders gently to warn them off. The pixies gasped and chastised, but they couldn't physically stop her from pushing past them all to stand squarely in front of them all.

"I'll come willingly," she confirmed, "as long as you don't hurt them."

"Snow!" Doc gasped.

She leaned down to prise Dopey's fists from her white shift. Borra couldn't help but examine her while her back was turned - the thin nightdress left nothing to the imagination, and the cool early-morning mist clung to the fabric, making the cloth stick to her skin. A thick white shawl covered her shoulders and back, the corners of which she clutched together with one hand in front of her chest to keep it firmly on her shoulders, despite the silver pin that kept the thing together.

"Good decision." Borra flashed his teeth at her in a smile and gestured for the two other Dark Fey to descend.

Snow's gaze darted between the two other Dark Fey. The woman had coppery-gold wings like a hawk, just like Borra's, with leather armour and a few of what appeared to be her own feathers sticking out horizontally from one side of a leather choker, in a fan-like shape. The other was so white he almost seemed to glow - every detail, from his sharp features to his clothes, was pure white, like a ghost. The female Fey watched the pixies while picking at her claw-like nails. The white one, however, was examining Snow with intense interest, and smiled warmly when he saw her looking too.

Meanwhile, Borra revelled in the pixies' expressions as the two Fey landed on the forest floor behind him. A mixture of fear and awe permeated the air, and he smoothed his feathers with one hand. He hadn't been allowed to intimidate humans for a while, what with Aurora's push for unity. _Pah_. These pixies were hardly faeries anyway - their wings were all gone, and they held the same hostility towards the Fey as the humans did.

His attention shifted back to Snow. One hand was fisted in the shawl and the other in her dress, and she was examining Udo with a curious expression, her wide eyes pinned to his face as his were to hers.

Borra cleared his throat. "We're not here to hurt you," he reiterated.

The sky was growing lighter by the minute, and they needed relative darkness while they flew by Tabor in case there were any farmers in the fields with lead in their guns - a human hunting animals was quick to turn their weapon to the skies, in his experience.

He drew a vial from his pocket and offered it to her.

Finally, those big doe eyes lifted to his inquisitively. "What is it?"

"Something to make the flight easier."

"Don't drink it," Grumpy warned.

Snow held it up to the lamplight. It shimmered golden, shifting and swirling in the light.

"Trust me," Borra said, crossing his arms, "there's quicker and easier ways to kill you than poison."

There was a long flight ahead of them. That was one reason why he had brought Ini and Udo with him - they could share the task of carrying the girl. He hadn't been keen on Udo coming with them - the Fey was like a target in any biome except Tundra - but everyone else had been busy and they _did_ have the cover of night on their side.

As it turned out, Snow was more of a slight thing than he had expected, though she was quite tall - almost level with him. Still, he appreciated the warning flap from Ini while he scooped Snow into his arms, catching her as she fell unconscious almost immediately after swallowing the golden liquid. Ini moved forwards to pick up the fallen vial, and Udo stepped between Borra and the pixies to give him time to take off with the extra weight.

The pixies cursed them all out but there was little they could do against Ini as she grew little branches from the wooden floor of the cottage, catching their ankles in wood bindings. With a grin, she jumped into the air and with a few strong wingbeats she rose above the tree line to join Udo and Borra, who were waiting for her.

"I do miss terrorising folks," she said, snapping her fingers to let the pixies go. Their shouts and demands for rematches and retribution rang through the forest.

Udo rolled his eyes at her and peered at the woman in Borra's arms. "Is she alright?"

"She's fine," Borra said.

"She drank a lot of the draught. With a larger dose, a human could die." Udo flew closer and reached out a hand to touch her neck, trying to find her pulse.

Borra reared back, disrupting Udo's probing. "She's _fine_. Aurora said bring her, and that's what we're doing. Alright?"

Udo held up his hands. "I was merely concerned."

"Come on, boys, don't bicker," Ini reproved. "We've still got seven hours to go!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to have Snow be tanned because she's out in the sun every day, but I decided to add to the Dark Fey lore - Snow does not tan or burn (because of the type of Fey she is!), despite her pale skin. It's magic! That way I can keep to Snow's canon appearance~

**Author's Note:**

> If you like the concept, don't forget to bookmark and subscribe to get alerts for the following chapters!


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